Tag: Exavier

Mac’s Best Side

wrestlebard2 Comments
Mac Matthias, 6’0″, 202 pounds
I’m enjoying the new release Pros in Private 9 from BG East, in no small part to a new-to-me discovery of Mac Matthias.  His gorgeous blond curls and hot, lightly hairy body have caught my attention before, but I haven’t taken the Mac plunge before now. He’s 6’0, 202 pounds of mischievous, powerful, fully committed pro wrestler that seriously entertained me in his ring face-off with equally (but differently) beautiful Exavier.  I love the premise for this match, that there’s nothing more suspenseful than when two equally matched muscle hunks with nearly identical dirty-playbooks meet one another with egos hanging out in the ring.

Mac’s stunning ass fills the foreground!
I swear I’ve bookmarked it before, but I was completely unprepared for how awestruck I’d be at the sight of Mac’s luscious ass squeezed so improbably inside his at-least-2-sizes-too-small shiny red trunks!  The whole match is a feast for muscle hunk lovers. Exavier bulges in all the right places, and would any night of the week make drool involuntarily escape from my gaping mouth were I to catch sight of him out at a club. However even Exavier’s tall dark and handsome hotness somehow fades into the background whenever the camera pans around to Mac Matthias’ breathtaking backside!

Happily for me,
Mac’s trunks never had a chance of covering those glutes!
I feel like I need to apologize to both Mac and Exavier for how completely distracted I kept getting from their otherwise extremely entertaining pro match. They both work every inch of the ring, as well as floor space in the BG East ring room I don’t ever recall seeing before, with hot, sweaty intensity. They’re both so unselfconscious I almost instantly find myself forgetting that there must have been a cameraman in the ring room with them capturing this hot, hot action. But all Mac had to do was just turn his back to the camera, and I lost track of time just a bit, enthralled and a little light-headed at the sight of those sculpted glutes.
Even Mac’s side-glute makes my jaw drop!

Both Mac and Exavier have a roguish, almost clownishness about them that take me back to very fond memories of over the top personalities climbing into the ring and filling up my imagination as I watched pro wrestling as a kid 30 years ago.  They tell a story. They mug for the camera (oh, right, somebody had to be holding that camera that Mac delights so in monologuing for!). They both sell nearly equal parts of dangerous short cutter and every inch likable muscle jock. They make me laugh, gasp, and wince as the down and dirty action unfolds, and then… I catch sight of those gorgeous globes not nearly contained inside Mac’s trunks. From every angle, this is one astonishingly pleasing ass!

This position seems hard to explain, but then my eyes rest
on Mac’s ass and…

Mac sweats, making the shiny sheen of his trunks blend in with the soaked muscles of his otherwise naked body. I know I’m repeating myself when I say it, but there are always new neverland readers who may not have heard my ode to the eroticism of a hunky, sweaty wrestler. Sweat brings such a tactile experience to the visual stimulation of watching a powerful body like Mac’s flex and strut and pound and preen. And speaking of tactilely arousing, if Mac’s ass cheeks weren’t made for squeezing long and deep, nothing in this world ever was!

Even spread-eagled with a bulging crotch, it’s the base of his ass cheeks
making my heart pound harder.

There’s geography that Mac’s trunks fail to cover that I never saw from my fondest fantasy pro wrestlers from the 80’s. Between the two of them, Exavier and Mac show one another’s bulges off with a generosity of spirit that brings a tear to my eye. But even when Mac’s bulging crotch nearly pokes me in my tear-filled eye, it’s the beauty of even the barest bottom of those butt cheeks that holds me riveted in place.

There’s no reason on God’s green earth that a man can’t
appreciate his own, hot ass, Mac!

Near the end of this fantastically entertaining match, Mac is dripping with sweat; his exquisitely inadequate trunks are wedged high up his hot round cheeks; he’s in sole possession of the mirror, and completely understandably, he nearly breaks his neck posing with his back to the mirror in order to take in the sight that I’ve been so entranced by for the past 20 minutes. “Why can’t a man appreciate his own butt? That’s all I can say,” Mac mutters to himself, proving there is (and should be) no impediment to his appreciating such a fine, fine specimen of manly beauty. Now, I’m feeling a need to rediscover Mac’s back catalog to stare at his backside for many more matches!